A/N: Hello if you are still reading this! Please do leave a comment if you are enjoying the story so far or have any questions etc. All feedback gratefully received x

Some coarse language - but this is an M rated fic so be warned...

Monday

Erik watched from a distance as Christine walked towards the carriage that was waiting by the cemetery gates. Everything around them seemed to be in monochrome: pale, grey skies contrasting with the drab, leaden buildings in the distance; dark,wet trees mournfully stretching their bare limbs towards the heavens while in the foreground weathered tombstones surrounded the damp gravel path. Amongst this, even dressed head to foot in black, Christine was a glorious, vibrant beacon of light and life. Erik could not take his eyes from her.

He felt that peculiar pang of discomfort as she moved away from him. To know she was his and then to have to let her walk away like this was excruciating. However, he consoled himself with the thought that it would not be forever. One way or another he would be with Christine - even if he had to burn the whole of Paris to make it so.

In the meantime, Erik thought to himself, the afternoon had raised some… issues, so now he had some rather urgent matters to attend to. A name, an address… some information to dig up and reconnaissance work to undertake. Christine was so very sweet and trusting - she thought the best of people. Erik had a rather different understanding of the world and so he planned accordingly.

Tuesday

In the small and rather shabby office of 'Gravier Esq, Importers of Fine Tobacco,' The proprietor, Marcel Gravier, leaned back in his chair with the morning's post in a pile before him: Bills, invoices, stock requests - the usual drivel.

In his hand he held a more interesting item - a letter from the Vicomtesse de Chagny, requesting an 'opportunity to discuss her husband's debts'. He snorted derisively. Her gullible husband had been an easy mark at the card tables of the Cercle de la rue Royale gentleman's club, it had taken very little effort to accumulate a substantial marker from him.

Even so, Gravier knew he had been careless – almost too greedy with de Chagny - Some of the gentlemen had started to talk indiscreetly about the larger than permitted stakes being gambled on in the back rooms of the club; the managers at the Cercle de la rue Royale had been starting to sniff around. It had been a relief when de Chagny had keeled over during dinner, conveniently before he could speak to anyone else about their little arrangement. Sometimes these matters needed resolving... sometimes they resolved themselves, Gravier mused.

His gaze fell back to the woman's letter. What angle would she try with him, he wondered? Begging for mercy? Threats of legal action? Offers of paintings or valuables in lieu of the cash? Other favours?

He had seen Madame de Chagny at a society dinner once: well dressed, dark hair, good looking. An interesting background, too – not high born, she was a chorus girl made good: raised out of obscurity by marrying into the nobility. Most dancers only managed a handful of fancy necklaces for their efforts pleasing their patrons – This bitch must have been damned good at whatever she did for the Vicomte to get a wedding ring out of him, Gravier thought to himself with a sneer.

To write directly to him like this meant she must be desperate. What would work well, he mused thoughtfully, would be to lure her here on her own and push her into a compromising position. He could offer to reduce the debt in exchange for favours... then he could enjoy the delights of shoving his cock inside her a few times. If she was game for it, he could knock off a portion of the debt each time to keep her coming back. But willing or unwilling, it was all the same, he thought, licking his lips. He could easily have her and then use it against her for some blackmail later on.

It was always pleasant when you could get an investment to pay double, and the de Chagnys may prove to be a rich seam to mine, Gravier smiled to himself. Today was shaping up quite nicely. He would reply to the letter immediately.

Friday

Friday evening arrived and a steady trickle of employees made their way from the dull, grey buildings around Regency Square. People were moving purposefully towards their homes, away from the dreary nine to five. Gravier watched it all dispassionately from the window of his office. He heard the charwomen clattering their buckets in the hallway, watched as the square emptied. Soon most businesses were closed up for the night. He checked his pocket watch, it was nearly half past five. Right on time he watched a carriage come to a stop below. Gravier smirked appreciatively as a trim woman, smartly dressed all in black, got out and hurried up the steps. Taking a comb from his jacket pocket he smoothed his hair back carefully before striding to the door.

When the Vicomtesse entered the office Gravier noted that she was far more attractive than he remembered; The dark widow's weeds suited her, showing off her pale complexion. Of course, she soon started her spiel about her husband, trying for his sympathy, but Gravier had no patience for it. She could pull that innocent face all she liked but he knew her type: All pouting lips and big, round tear-filled eyes one moment, but not afraid to use her charms to get what she wanted. He started to make clear what he expected from her but she seemed determined to play coy, the stuck up bitch. She was nothing more than a common actress with a fancy title and she could earn her favours from him if she wanted them. If she was foolish enough to think that she could walk in here and expect something for nothing – well she'd soon learn the way things worked… He was going to enjoy this, he thought, grabbing for her.

As he made contact with Christine's arm he watched her pretty face, her brown eyes staring back at him widened in alarm - then suddenly her gaze shifted from him to focus on something behind his head and her expression changed – just as he felt the shock of something cold and tight squeezing his neck, constricting his airway.

Gravier yelped in pain and let go of Christine to claw frantically at his neck, realising with horror that some kind of thin rope was beginning to bite into his throat. He found himself stepping backwards on his toes, struggling to keep the rope from strangling him.

A low voice hissed threateningly into Gravier's ear. "If you ever touch the Vicomtesse again, I will break your miserable neck. You don't want me to have to do that, do you?" Gravier shook his head as he gasped for breath, the tension of the lasso slackened a little. He took wheezing gasps of air into his lungs, trying to calm his breathing and get a handle on the situation, which had rapidly taken a very, very alarming turn.

With a lasso around his neck, held from behind by some mystery assailant– how the HELL had he even got in here? – Gravier was too shocked to think properly. He looked wide eyed at Madame de Chagny but she was not paying any attention to him.

The Vicomtesse was still looking behind Gravier to the man who held him. Something seemed to pass between them without words then she nodded and took a seat once more, smoothing her dress and settling herself into the chair.

Christine looked up and eyed Gravier coolly. In a controlled voice she said, "I think I must decline your offer of friendship, Monsieur. As you see I have my own friends, you will find my associate here is quite protective of my interests."

The Vicomtesse's associate twitched at the lasso as if to make a point, before continuing in a smooth tone, "Madame de Chagny has already offered you the opportunity to help her, it would have been a touching gesture from you to have done so - seeing as how you cheated the money from the Vicomte anyway –" at this Gravier started to struggle, speaking hoarsely.

"I won the - money at cards, you have no - evidence at all that I-" but he gagged and stopped speaking as the noose around his neck was pulled uncomfortably tight once more.

The sonorous voice purred in his ear again. "I would suggest you do not waste your breath. Lies will do you no good here, for I know exactly how you operate. In fact, I know a great deal about you… for example, I know all about the trouble you found yourself in last year with the gendarmes in Riems. I know about the young woman who you jilted and left pregnant and penniless in Lyon– you were using a different name then though, weren't you Marcel – or should I call you Yves? I know the names of at least three gentlemen from that city who would be very interested in finding you and discussing your debts to them –"

Here the voice sighed sadly, taking a sorrowful tone. "I am afraid it might be beyond money now, Marcel, you appear to have upset them greatly. They seemed to be quite intent on removing body parts when I spoke to them… what a shame that would be."

Gravier was sweating profusely now. His bulging eyes darted around the room, wondering if any other enemies would step forward. His breathing was inhibited by the lasso, each breath rasping from his throat. The voice continued,

"I also noticed that your accountancy skills are quite remiss. It turns out that your tobacco importing business is not declaring its profits correctly to the tax office. How curious! I am sure there are any number of people who would be interested to know more about that, don't you think? What a fascinating man you are, Marcel. I have so enjoyed getting to know you."

"What – what do you want - from me? I can – write off the debt – if that's what - you need." Gravier gasped the words out.

"Oh, Marcel… I knew you would be a reasonable fellow as soon as we met. Yes, that would be kind, wouldn't it? Perhaps that might be a suitable place to start - would you agree, Vicomtesse?"

Christine smiled pleasantly and nodded. "How decent of you, Monsieur Gravier. In a moment my friend here will help you to sign the necessary documents to confirm the debt is released."

The voice added, "It would be a very welcome gesture for you to remove ten thousand francs in used notes from the safe you have hidden in the cabinet over there, and to offer it to Madame de Chagny as compensation - for the terrible distress your little fraud has caused her, and to atone for your disgusting behaviour towards her earlier. Such a gesture would be quite at your own discretion of course – but should you not do so I will be extremely disappointed. I should tell you that I do not cope well with disappointment, Marcel. It would be in your interests to be generous." The lasso was loosened off enough for Gravier to speak, and he hoarsely whispered his agreement.

He was then marched forward to the cabinet that housed the hidden safe where he got out the ten thousand francs, passing them to Christine with a shaking hand. The document for the cancellation of Raoul's debt was swiftly placed in front of him and Gravier signed it, again passing it back to Christine. He wondered if they planned to kill him now, or if they would hand him over to the gang of criminals from Lyon who he had double-crossed. A wave of panic washed over him and he started to whimper. The smell of his own sweat was sharp and acrid in his nostrils.

The voice whispered softly in his ear. "Now, Marcel. You have been very obliging. As a reward, we will give you a head start! When you wake up, you will have till nightfall to gather your things and leave Paris permanently. If you are in the city after that I'm afraid there will be other people looking for you. Nasty, violent people, Marcel. Not generous types like us. Should you ever return to Paris or make contact with Madame de Chagny again do not doubt that I will know… and I will kill you. I do not give second chances. Do you understand?"

Marcel Gravier nodded carefully, still held tightly by the lasso. He was just wondering what the man had meant about waking up when he felt a sharp, cold sensation in his bicep, then a fog descended and his limbs gave way…

As Gravier slumped into unconsciousness Erik swiftly capped and pocketed the metal syringe, removed the lasso from his neck and arranged him on the floor so his airway was unobstructed. He looked across at Christine admiringly. She had remained remarkably calm and collected throughout the entire unpleasant business, playing her part exactly as they had agreed. He thought of what Gravier had intended to do to her and felt a surge of pure hatred towards the man. Scowling with disgust Erik delivered a hard kick to the man's prone body. Had he have come here alone the vile creature would not be waking up at all…